


we were in screaming colour

by ghostrider



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Soulmate AU, b&w world au, cute warm happy fic, lil bit of larry, teenager boys :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 20:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3302252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostrider/pseuds/ghostrider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I came to get yo- I mean I came to see you,” Zayn says, “I want to talk to you. I think you and I-”</p><p>“After dumping my best friend, you come here to <i>get</i> me?” Liam says, he pokes a finger at Zayn’s chest, “Listen, I might find you attractive but I am not going to stand here while you try to flirt with me.”</p><p>(aka where everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	we were in screaming colour

**Author's Note:**

> so i saw a post on tumblr and i wrote this. im just getting back into writing after ages so this is short. enjoy x

He is six years old when he first sees colour.

He is in the playground with some of his mates and he is frozen in place because Danny had tagged him ‘it’ a few moments ago. He is waiting for someone to unfreeze him so that he can join the game again when suddenly, everything around him changes.

Everything around him goes extremely weird. It’s not black and white anymore, there are more _colours_ appearing all around him. The grass isn’t a lighter shade of black; it’s another colour that is way too bright for his eyes. The sky isn’t white; it’s a colour that would put a chaotic mind to peace. It’s hard for him to take everything in, the colours swirling around him playing with his mind. He remains rooted to the spot, thinking how ugly the colour of the swing is, even when he is untagged. Is he stunned or mesmerized, his six year old brain cannot figure.

But then he’s being shoved to the ground by one of his mates, “Zayn, run!” and in that quick moment, the colours melt back into black and white. A fear grips his heart as he sits up and quickly rubs his eyes scared that he’d never see ‘colour’ again. Half of him trying to decipher what just happened as he gets up to his feet, dusts off his clothes and makes his way to the nearest bench.

Zayn hasn’t ever known ‘colour’ before. He knew how it sounded; he knew how the word felt like on his tongue. But this is the first time he has actually seen it, actually believed in it. Sure, he knows what black and white is; it’s the world. It is all that surrounds him, all that he sees. Black and white isn’t _colour_ really, black and white is just _everything_.

So it’s fair to say that ‘colour’ has only been a foreign concept to him, he’s only heard about it in his mother’s stories; how everything around Aladdin used to change into ‘colour’ whenever he saw the princess with the tiger. And once he had heard about it  
from his elder sister, Doniyah.

It had happened when he was four; Doniyah had come rushing home one day, her lab coat hanging over her sleeve, her eyes wild with joy. The moment she had entered, she had picked up his youngest sister in her arms and swung her around, singing happily, “I saw colour today Wal, I saw colour! The world is so beautiful, it’s breathtaking!”

Zayn hadn’t understood her, and nor had his younger sister. But the way his parents had reacted to the news, with bright smiles and excited faces, was enough to show that they did. He heard his mother ask Doniyah, ‘Who is he?’ and before he could ask ‘Who is who mum?’, Doniyah was ushered into his parents’ bedroom with the door closing shut on him and his little sister.

About an year later, Doniyah got engaged. Zayn hadn’t seen that coming but considering how acquainted his future brother-in-law, Salman, had become with his family in such a short span of time, he probably should have. Fortunately, Salman was a nice person and Zayn liked him. He used to bring Zayn action figures sometimes, and even helped him with his homework occasionally. Zayn was glad his sister had decided to marry such an amazing man who made her so happy. Doniyah had once told Zayn how Salman had the most incredible, the most blue eyes; ‘as blue as the ocean’ she had said. And Zayn had no idea what ‘blue’ was but judging by Doniyah’s delight, he knew it wasn’t something bad.

And now he’s just seen colour for the very first time, and he wonders which one of it was blue. As he sits on the dingy old bench, that he knows is actually not white, he also wonders if he’s ever going to see colour again.

—-

When he tells his mother about how he saw colour at the playground today, his mother turns around to look at him so fast that she nearly drops the tray in her hand.

“What do you mean?” she asks him, coming forward and setting the tray back on the dining table.

“I was in the ground and for some time I saw a lot of colours. But then they went away,” he tries to explain.

“Are you sure?” she asks, sitting on the chair beside him, “Zayn, tell me you’re not just making this up?”

“No mum! I am not, I swear,” he says, “The sky was not white and the bench looked really ugly! The colour of grass matched the leaves!”

He watches as his mom eyes widen and she bites her lips, “But this is impossible, you are only six!”

“Is something wrong with me?” he asks in a small voice, because his mother looks really worried.

“No no,” his mother tells him, “Let’s go to this playground again tomorrow, okay? Just to see if you see colour again.”

He agrees with a smile, not letting her know that the speck of fear in his heart might have grown a little bit.

—

The next day he visits the playground with his mother. He plays there for an entire hour (or two) while his mother sits on the ugly bench, reading her book. He goes to stand on the exact same spot he was standing on a day before and even falls down again on purpose, but he doesn’t see colour again.

His mother tells him on their way back home, not to worry about it; they’ll go back again the next day. They do, they go back the next day, and the day after, and the day after, they keep going for an entire week. But Zayn doesn’t see colour again.

When he asks his mother if something is wrong with him again, she kisses him on the forehead with a reassuring smile and says, “There’s nothing to worry about, sunshine.”

The sincerity in her face is such, that all the dread in his body dissipates.

—-

He is in junior year, when somebody finally explains the importance of _seeing colour_ to him. And it’s not his teacher. No. It’s Louis Tomlinson; his best friend.

They are in their tree house; the one they had built together on the tree in front of Louis’ house with Louis’ dad two months ago. It is the only place free of Louis’ younger sisters’ dolls and toy cars. They are playing ‘secret for a secret’; a game they had learnt about recently from a gangster movie and it had looked pretty cool. Zayn doubted there was anything they had kept from each other, but even he had to admit how sick it had been when the Don put a bullet through his disciple’s head who had told a false secret.

“I’ll go first. When I was little, my sisters used to dress me up as a princess and I liked it,” Louis starts.

“Mine dressed me up too once, took a picture and showed it to all my family members,” Zayn confides.

“I stole money from my babysitter when I was seven. A whole fifty bucks. Best week of my life!”

“I don’t know how to swim,” Zayn says.

“That’s not a secret! Correct yourself or die,” Louis says, pointing his fake gun at Zayn.

“I burnt my report card once when I failed math?”

“Nice,” Louis smirks at him, lowering the gun, “Let’s see. Um… I kissed Eleanor.”

“Eleanor who always gets an A?”

“Yeah, don’t tell anybody.”

“So, is she your girlfriend now?”

“No. She can’t be my girlfriend.”

“Why not? She’s nice. Way too nice for you, actually.”

“Thank you, Zayn,” Louis says, pretending to shoot him with his gun, “But she’s not my soulmate, so what’s the point of dating her?”

Zayn laughs, “Soulmate? You’re taking it way too far bro, you only kissed her. How do you even know she’s not your "soulmate"?”

“Because the world didn’t turn colourful when we met. Or when we kissed.”

Zayn stops short, looking back at Louis with wide eyes.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“I mean that if she were my soul mate, my world would not be black and white anymore, right?”

“What? Why wouldn’t it be?”

“What? Nobody has ever told you?”

“Told me what?”

“Oh my god!”

“Lou, told me what?”

“Okay… You do know that this world is not really black and white, right? I mean we are all told that in kindergarten,” Louis asks, eagerly.

“Yeah, I know.”

“And you also know that one day everyone will be able to see all the colours?”

“Yeah,” Zayn says.

“But do you know why or how that will happen?”

“No...”

“Interesting,” Louis says, leaning back into his cushion with his arms folded.

Zayn stares at his best friend waiting for him to continue, but Louis just stares back at him with a contemplating grin on his face.

“Will you tell me already?” Zayn asks, impatiently.

“Yeah, but you might want to sit down for this,” Louis says solemnly, sitting up straight.

“I am sitting down, L-”

“No no, shush,” Louis cuts him off, “Now you listen and I speak, little one.”

Zayn sighs in irritation.

“So basically, there’s a system and everyone knows about it, I don’t know how you don’t,” Louis begins, “When you meet your soul mate, you can see the world for what it truly is. You don’t have to live in a dull black and white world anymore. Until your soul mate dies though, then your world turns back to this.”

He spreads his hands, signaling to his surroundings. Zayn listens intently with questions running through his mind; he saw colour once. He remembers that moment as bright as day. But he hadn’t met anyone; he had just been playing with people he already knew.

“So you can only see colour when you meet your soul mate? You can’t see it without meeting them?” he asks Louis.

“No, not really. You can see colour for short periods sometimes. That’s a sign, actually. It’s a sign that your soul mate is near you, some fifteen or twenty feet near you I think. The colour disappears when they move further away from you. But once you have met them, once you’ve physically touched them, then the colour stays even if they are not around you.”

“Oh,” Zayn says, his heart beating fast. It’s bizarre, whatever Louis is telling him is so freaking weird.

But things are adding up in Zayn’s mind; how he _did_ in fact see colour for some time, he had witnessed how the world wasn’t black and white. He remembers how his mother had been anxious because he was too young to see colour. He remembers how Salman had become a part of their family right after Doniyah had announced how she had seen it; Salman was Doniyah’s soulmate. It did make sense.

“Yeah,” Louis says, “So when I’ll see my soulmate, my world will turn colourful. That’s how I know that Eleanor isn’t it.”

“Hm. So, you want to know a secret?”

“I always want to know a secret bro,” Louis says.

“I saw colour once.”

“What?” Louis gasps.

“Yes. I was six years old I guess, I never told anyone but my mum.”

“What did she say?”

“She told me there was nothing to worry about.”

“Did you meet somebody new that day?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Ah, see! Your soulmate must have been nearby then,” Louis snaps his fingers, “It would’ve been pretty sick if you had met them though. They could’ve been friends with us and your world could have stopped being black and white earlier than expected!”

And since Zayn doesn’t know how to respond to that, he just nods and leans back into his beanbag, trying to recall the people he had seen in the playground that day.

—-

He’s lying on his bed, flipping idly through the pages of the latest issues of ‘The Flash’, wondering what colour would Barry’s suit be, when three loud knocks on his door startle him.

“I’m in!” he says loudly, sliding the comic under his pillow and sitting up.

The next minute, the door flies open and Louis walks in, wearing a maroon jumper and sweatpants with a beanie on his head, a scarf around his neck and a box of pizza in his hands.

“Oh thank god your unbearable roommate isn’t here. He is so fucking loud all the time, that Irish prick,” Louis says, kicking the door shut behind him.

“Yeah, and you’re the most serene person I’ve ever met Louis,” Zayn comments, pulling out a six pack of Red Bull from under his bed.

“Who says I am not? I can be as silent as a- as a- I can be very silent when I want to be,” Louis says.

“Can barely wait for that moment to arrive!”

“Stop being rude and scoot over,” Louis says, as Zayn makes room for him on his small bed.

It’s not like there’s no other furniture in the dormitory for Louis to sit on; there are two vacant chairs and his roommate’s empty bed but Louis refuses to sit anywhere but in Zayn’s bed. Because (1) he has issues with Zayn’s roommate Niall (something about him drinking too much beer and having bad breath but only zayn knows it’s because niall once kicked louis’ ass in a game of football during practice) and (2) he doesn’t trust the antique furniture provided by the university (‘this chair looks like it could fall apart any second zayn. it’s not even nailed together i’m sure, they have used some cheap ass glue to put it together!’).

They had obviously applied to the same university after graduation. After Zayn’s letter of acceptance had arrived, the first thing he had done besides hugging his mom was calling Louis. Louis, who was perceptibly asleep and unaware. So when Zayn had woken him up and told him the news, Louis had hung up after congratulating him and promising to call after he checked his. Those five to six minutes of waiting for Louis’ call, were perhaps the slowest minutes of Zayn’s life. He couldn’t for one second even imagine leaving the city alone, he wasn’t leaving Louis behind no matter what. Either Louis went with him, or he was going to convince his parents about going to community college. But that did not have to happen because when Louis called the first thing he said to Zayn was, “I got in, bro!” and Zayn had sighed the most relieved sigh of all.

Once they are settled on Zayn’s bed, Louis says, “Eat up, bro. You are clearly losing weight because of the one million books you read!”

Zayn doesn’t have to be told twice. He grabs the biggest slice in the pizza box. It’s been ages since he had food which wasn’t too salty or too spicy or completely tasteless. Also, hot pepperoni pizza, which Zayn knows for sure would be of an equally superb colour as its aroma, on a cold January night feels like heaven.

“Anyway mum called,” Louis says between bites, “She was crying buckets.”

“Why?”

“Told me I should’ve spent more time there after Christmas, but because of you I left early. Thanks for making my mum cry.”

“I didn’t ask you to come with me,” Zayn replies with an eye roll, “You can still go back if you want. We still have a week off, anyway. If you leave now, I reckon you’d be there by sunrise.”

“What? And leave you behind alone with that Irish monster?” Louis says, feigning a look of indignation, “What kind of a best friend do you think I am?”

“Do you seriously want me to answer that?”

“Anyway,” Louis says while flipping Zayn off, “The point is that you and me are going out tomorrow night.”

Zayn doesn’t ask how Louis connected the dots there because really, he doesn’t want to know. Instead he asks, “Why, what’s tomorrow night?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

“Then why and where we going?”

“I am going to sell you for a million dollars.”

“If you’re not telling me, I’m not coming.”

“Because I think you need to get out of this stupid room before I lose you to homework and comic books,” Louis says.

“I really don’t want to go, it’s very cold outside,” Zayn says.

“Ah! And I always wondered what the purpose of coats and jackets was,” Louis says.

“You know I’d love to go b-”

“No. No buts Zayn! And our parents gave us money for a reason. So let’s go out and let’s chill! Cam told me about this club and it’s just a street away, something tells me we are going to have a lot of fun!”

“Have fun without me,” Zayn says.

“Listen to me Zayn Malik,” Louis says sternly, “‘The Rogue’ is playing there tomorrow, and this might be my only chance to get an autograph and weigh my chances of joining their band. So you better come along because if I lose my chill and end up dying, I need you to tell them nice things about me and get them to play at my funeral.”

“Did you just say ‘ _nice things_ about me’? Because I doubt ther-”

“Just fucking come with me and stop being a dick!”

“Okay… Since you asked so _nicely_.”

“I hate you sometimes.”

Zayn laughs, throwing the white pizza saver in Louis’ face.

—-

‘The Rogues’ as it turns out, is actually a pretty sick band. With them playing their rock songs, and Louis literally jumping up and down beside him the whole time, Zayn has to admit that he has had a fun time.

Now, the band is standing in the corner, surrounded by small crowd. They had stopped playing like fifteen minutes ago but the number of people asking them for autographs was incentive enough for Zayn to conclude that they were going to make it big one day.

“I’m gonna go, I’m gonna go there, play it cool and ask for an autograph,” Louis says, Zayn tries to push him towards the crowd but he refuses to budge.

“Just go! They’re not gonna eat you up!” Zayn tries to encourage him.

“Okay okay, tell me how I look,” Louis asks him, and Zayn rolls his eyes before giving him a one over. He’s clad in black jeans and a hoodie with their university’s logo on it. He looks fine.

“You look great,” Zayn tells him because he knows that is what Louis needs to hear.

“Okay okay, wish me luck!”

“Best of luck! Now go,” and Zayn physically pushes him towards the direction of the band. He watches as Louis takes nervous steps towards the crowd and then- then Zayn gulps.

The monochrome setting in front of him transforms into a full range of a thousand different shades. He quickly blinks twice, and looks around. Everything is in full colour, he can easily distinguish between all the shades. The floor is dark, the stools are shiny and the blend of colours that the people are wearing is striking. He diverts his eyes to his hands; his skin is clearly a different shade from the people around him. He checks his clothes, he had pulled a black jacket over a black shirt on with white pants back in the dorm but now the pants look like how he remembers the colour of the sky to be, and the shirt he’s wearing matches that of the drink in a blond woman’s hand.

He looks at Louis; his hoodie is the colour of the grass he remembers, but way darker. Louis looks panic striken; he is standing among the crowd, looking around and biting his lips nervously. Zayn can’t for the life of him figure why Louis isn’t already asking for the autograph and coming back. He really needs Louis now, for this seeing colour could only mean one thing; his soulmate is somewhere near.

That thought alone makes his stomach twist badly, he might not be ready for this. He is only 18, he hasn’t even finished one semester of university. And then he hears something that triggers an alarm inside his head, “-you see colour?”

He scans the club, trying to figure who said that and then his eyes stop on a curly haired guy clad in the tightest jeans he’s ever seen and a button down that’s not even buttoned properly. The guy is just five feet away talking to a middle aged man, and over the noise Zayn strains his ears to hear what he is saying.

“Sir, hi- er- I just wanted to ask you if you can see everything in colour? I mean no offense really, I just need to know because suddenly I can see a lot of colours every-”

“I’ll have you know young man, that I have a wife at home and I have seen colour since about ten years now,” the man says and Zayn sees the face of the weird guy turn into a different colour.

Taking a deep breath, Zayn walks towards him. He’s heard enough to judge who that guy might be and honestly, he isn’t even surprised. Somewhere in his heart, he always knew his soulmate would be a guy, at times he even feared that it might turn out to be a girl. He doesn’t really know why, but ever since Louis had told him about ‘the system’, he had never once imagined himself with a girl.

“Hey,” he says, once he reaches the guy who’s clearly searching for another person to interrogate.

“Hi,” the guy replies with a smile.

“I am Zayn,” he puts his hand out because he doesn’t know what else to do. How does he tell him that maybe he’s his soulmate? How do you even say that? He probably should’ve asked Louis.

“Harry,” the guy says, taking the hand and shaking it politely, “Nice to meet you.”

“Um, I kind of heard what you were asking that man over there,” Zayn says.

“Yeah, I was actually going to ask you too, can you see colour?” Harry asks.

Zayn looks into his eyes and gulps; he really doesn’t know the right way to say this. He’s stuck. Harry is beautiful, yes, he is very beautiful. His hair are a perfect contrast to his skin tone, his eyes are not black at all; they are like the colour of grass, only lighter in shade and shimmering like diamonds. Maybe this is what ‘blue eyes’ are, Zayn thinks as he tries to gather up the proper words.

“I-m, actually, I think- I just started seeing colour a few moments ago too, like you,” Zayn says, “So I was thinking maybe, you know, maybe…”

Zayn trails off because Harry is smiling at him like he has heard the best news of his life, and if a minute ago Zayn had said Harry was beautiful, now he takes it back. Because he isn’t beautiful, he is gorgeous as fuck.

“I know, shit, I know this is-”

But before Harry can finish, a familiar accent and figure is interrupting them shamelessly, “HAZ! HAZ! Where the fuck did y- oh hi Zayn, thank god you came out of that tiny room today. Oh, so you’ve met my friend Harry! Harry this is my roommate, the one with the obnoxious best friend!”

“You know Niall?” Zayn asks Harry, whose smile hasn’t faded or diminished one bit.

“Yeah, Liam introduced us back in fifth grade. Oh, and speaking of Liam, Liam this is Zayn, Zayn this is Liam,” Harry says, and Zayn notices another guy standing beside Niall for the first time.

The word that comes to Zayn’s mind when he takes the sight of Liam in is _‘sky’_. Because Liam is dressed from head to toe in the colour Zayn had seen above him when he had first seen colour; jeans, a white shirt and a jean jacket over it. And it looks like that colour was made for Liam.

“Hey,” Zayn says, and his hand goes out again for Liam to shake. Liam smiles at him, his lips full and of a really nice colour, as he takes Zayn’s hand and shakes.

“Anyway, Zayn and I were headed out for a bit,” Harry tells Niall, and Zayn tries to recall when they had decided that. But he doesn’t say anything to Harry because ‘heading out’ does sound nice. Also, it’s better if they got to know each other anyway, “So I’ll catch you and Liam back at my place then?”

“Yeah, no problem at all,” Niall says, looking suspiciously between Harry and Zayn, “Liam and I are just gonna say bye to the lads, and we’re off as well.”

“Sounds good,” Harry says before turning to Zayn, “So shall we?”

“Yeah,” Zayn replies, “Niall, Lou is right over there. Could you please tell him I had to leave when he comes looking for me? I’ll text him too, but y-”

“I am not even going near Louis but yes, I’ll get Liam to do it,” Niall assures him.

“Yeah okay, thanks,” Zayn says, glancing at Liam who bites his lip and turns his head away the moment their eyes meet.

Before Zayn can ponder on that puzzling reaction, a soft hand is going around his and Harry is leading him towards the exit. He follows Harry even when he doesn’t want to leave without Louis. And he also kind of wants to stay back to find out why Liam is tapping his foot on the floor incessantly and why he keeps biting his lip furiously. He wants to know what’s bothering this new guy he has just met even more than he wants to get familiar with the stunning person who is apparently his soulmate.

“So, pretty weird huh?” Harry asks him, once they’re out of the club.

Before answering Harry, Zayn sneaks a look towards the sky to check the colour of it, it’s dark. Almost black, but not really.

“What’s weird?” he says, looking back into Harry’s eyes.

“How we just met- like I had always thought it wouldn’t be this easy,” Harry says, as they start walking aimlessly on the sidewalk.

“The way you were asking around, didn’t make it really hard either,” Zayn says without thinking and regrets it immediately because Harry has stopped short in his tracks, with a baffled expression on his face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way,” he starts but Harry shakes his head so he stops.

“No, it’s not you,” Harry says.

“Then what is it?” Zayn asks.

“No, I mean, it’s not _you_ ,” Harry says, “Did you lie to me when you said you could see colour? Because that is just mean, Zayn.”

“What are you talking about?” Zayn asks, completely confused by the sudden change in Harry’s behavior, “I can see colour, I wasn’t lying!”

“But, but- I can’t see it anymore. Everything just turned black and white again.”

“Huh?” Zayn asks, because he can still see colour. Harry’s eyes are the same shade as grass; they haven’t gone back to being black.

“Yeah, everything’s back to black and white!”

“But-”

“No, this means you’re not my soulmate.”

“But, then why can I still see colour?”

“I- I don’t know…” Harry says, “Maybe you met someone before me?”

“Didn’t.”

“Well, whoever they are, they must still be in the club, let’s go,” and Harry takes Zayn’s hand again, before retracing his footsteps back to the club.

The moment they enter the club again, Harry’s grip around his hand tightens, “It’s all colour again,” Harry says. “He’s here. Zayn, will you go find Niall? Is it okay if I go and look around for him?”

The wild look in Harry’s eyes is too strong for Zayn to say no, so he nods and Harry smiles at him, leaving his hand to blend in the crowd again. Zayn doesn’t really know how he feels about Harry not being his soulmate; he was pretty nice, he was good-looking too, but there was a part of him that didn’t mix correctly with Zayn. They didn’t _fit_ , and Zayn could feel that even if his heart was adamant about Harry being ‘the one’.

He scans the room to see if he can find Louis in the crowd around the band members. After he fails to spot him, he goes in search of Niall. Finding Niall is really easy; the boy is standing next to the bar with a drink in one hand and his phone in the other.

“Hey Zayn!” Niall exclaims when he spots Zayn make his way towards him. “You’re back? I thought you were headed out. Where’s Haz?”

“Yeah, there was a misunderstanding,” Zayn says hurriedly, “I’m not the guy he was looking for. Did you see Louis?”

“Nope,” Niall says, taking a huge gulp of his drink that smells strongly like beer.

“I should text him,” Zayn says, digging out his phone from his pocket.

“You don’t need to have Louis to keep you company,” Niall says, slinging an arm over Zayn’s shoulder, “You have me! And trust me I am funner than you can even think!”

Zayn smiles at ‘funner’ as he types a ‘where u at?’ and sends it to Louis, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

“-and you should keep me company too, because Liam’s being no fun tonight,” Niall is still speaking, “Something’s gotten into him with his stupid colour situation!”

Niall gasps the moment he realizes what he has just said and claps his mouth shut with his hand. He looks mortified. Zayn on the other hand, is suddenly very interested.

“What?” he asks.

“Please, don’t tell Liam I said that,” Niall says.

“Why did you say that? What’s his colour situation?” Zayn asks, he’s not letting this go. Not when his world is a mess of colours and he doesn’t know who is causing it. Doesn’t know if Liam is causing it.

“I don’t know, it’s very confusing,” Niall says frustratingly, “His world suddenly changed into full colour just an hour ago or summat, and he’s been giving me a hard time ever since! He thinks his fucking soulmate or whatever is in here and he’s been so worried. I can’t even keep up with that level of- worriness! I don’t even know why I am telling you this!”

“Where’s Liam now?” Zayn asks.

“He went to the loo,” Niall says, “But you’re not telling him I told you this. Harry is too busy looking for whatever, and I just had to tell someone! I can’t see Liam so nervous and worried, I just cannot do it.”

“It’s okay,” Zayn tells him, “Liam’s going to be fine.”

“How can you say that? You don’t know him Zayn, he won’t stop until he figures everything out. He’s going mental looking for his-”

“Just trust me, he _is_ going to be fine. Can you take me to him?”

“To the loo?”

“Yeah, no I mean no - I’ll wait for him outside the door?”

“Zayn- you don’t know the problem with Liam, I am telling you-”

“Niall, I can fix this,” Zayn grips Niall’s shoulder, and looks him into the eye, “Trust me, I _know_ how to fix this.”

Niall bites his bottom lip, he’s still very anxious and doubtful, Zayn can see that. Zayn considers telling him why he wants to see Liam so much, but Zayn wants to tell Liam first because nobody but Liam deserves to know. It’s nobody else’s business.

“Okay, that way,” Niall says, pointing to the way of the toilets, “Just go there and move left, you’ll find the loo yourself.”

“Thanks, you need to chill okay,” Zayn tells him before letting go of his shoulders and walking away to find out if what he’s thinking (wishing for) is true.

—-

Zayn doesn’t have to wait long in front of the men’s restroom, thirty seconds in and Liam is trotting out of there, his movements panicky and face exhibiting unease. It takes all of Zayn’s courage to approach him before he walks away.

“Liam,” Zayn says, and Liam halts in his steps, looking up instantly from the floor to meet him square in the eyes.

“You,” he says, “I thought you had left with Harry.”

“I did,” Zayn says, “But that was a stupid mistake.”

“Excuse me?”Liam says firmly, taking a step back, “What do you mean by that? That’s my friend who you’re calling a stupid mistake!”

“No no,” Zayn wants to mentally punch himself for being so blunt, “You don’t understand. I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Why are you even here?” Liam asks, his forehead is a mess of furious lines, his lips are pressed together and his eyes are narrowed at Zayn; eyes that aren’t like Harry’s at all no, they are the ugly colour of that old bench in the playground, but that ugly colour isn’t ugly anymore- it’s Zayn’s favorite.

“I came to get yo- I mean I came to see you,” Zayn says, “I want to talk to you. I think you and I-”

“After dumping my best friend, you come here to _get_ me?” Liam says, he pokes a finger at Zayn’s chest, “Listen, I might find you attractive but I am not going to stand here while you try to flirt with me.”

“You find me attractive?” Zayn asks, noticing how Liam’s jaw goes slack and a look of panic replaces the anger as he realizes his mistake.

“I didn’t-” Liam blinks rapidly, “I need to go, I have other more important stuff to do.”

Liam averts his eyes from Zayn’s and tries to move past him. Only that he fails because Zayn’s hands moves faster than lightening to grip Liam’s arm tightly, stopping him from moving away.

“Let go of me,” Liam says, and what stings Zayn is the apprehensive look hidden beneath his eyes. But Zayn can feel proper muscle under his palms and yet, Liam isn’t shoving his hands off him. So he takes that as a sign to not let go.

“You need to hear me out,” Zayn says.

“And why on earth would I do that?” Liam asks, and his face is too close, his dark eyes staring right back at him. Zayn thinks he might not be able to speak for a moment.

But then he gulps, notices when Liam’s eyes shift to his throat before meeting back with his, and he finally says it, “Because you make me see colour.”

Liam’s countenance changes from one of pure panic to one of complete bewilderment, his jaw drops open and his eyes form perfect ovals. Zayn wants to draw the sight before him, he wants to engrave it in his memory because there is only one word that can explain how Liam looks, and that word is ‘magic’.

“You, it’s you,” Liam whispers, and Zayn probably won’t have been able to hear it if Liam wasn’t _this_ close to his face. Or if there were people around. (it’s really weird how not one person has come out or gone in the restroom since liam came out, but zayn is very thankful.)

“Yeah, I thought it was Harry but then Harry stopped seeing colour, but I didn’t and you’re the only one I had met and we shook hands so I figured,” Zayn shrugs, his hands not letting go of Liam’s arms because he finds himself incapable of doing so, “So that is why I said Harry was a mistake, I should have said misunderstanding instead but I wasn’t really thinking because- because I was- I was afraid it might not be you.”

Liam’s eyes scan his face as his lips curve into the beginning of a smile, “You were afraid it might not be me?”

“Yeah,” Zayn breathes out, he can’t really feel the ground beneath his feet anymore. Liam is smiling at him, his entire face seems to be glowing and Zayn feels his spirits uplift. Even a hot pepperoni pizza can’t beat how warm Liam’s smile is making him feel inside.

“You know what,” Liam says, and Zayn feels Liam’s hands settle on either side of his waist, “You’ve told me the best news I have heard since ages. I was going to go on a full search mission in order to find out who was making my world so colourful.”

“That would have been really tiring,” Zayn says, the tension easing out of him because Liam’s gripping his waist now and it feels like a promise.

“But you also caused me to freak out for about half an hour now,” Liam continues, “And then before, you looked at me with these eyes of yours and then went away with Harry. The audacity!”

“In my defense, I didn’t know it was _you_ ,” Zayn grins at him.

“Changes nothing, I am a bit mad you. But like if you took me out for coffee or something, I’d pr-”

“Will you go out with me Liam? Right now. There’s a coffee place near my campus, would you like a cup?” Zayn doesn’t waste a second, he’s already wasted a bit too many.

“I thought you would never ask.”

—-

They say bye to Niall, Louis and Harry. Not separately, no. All three of them are standing together near the bar when they find them; Harry’s arm thrown around Louis’ shoulders and Louis has an enormous smile on his face which is weird because Niall is standing less than a foot away from him.

“Zayn!” Louis exclaims when he sees them, “Guess what? I got the autograph, I touched Bob Rooney’s hand and I found my soulmate! Meet Harry!”

And Zayn can’t believe his ears, because who would have though! Harry, as far as Zayn knows is a nice person, and Louis- well, Zayn can only wish them luck. He grins at Harry though, who returns the smile back, sealing a secret between them.

“And I found mine,” Zayn announces, stating the obvious because all three boys have already noticed the way his hand is knotted with Liam’s who is smiling sheepishly at all of them.

“Oh… So that is what you meant…” Niall says, raising his eyebrows at Zayn, “I get it! Thank you for fixing it, mate.”

“Fixing what?” Liam asks.

“Nothing,” Niall pats his shoulder, “But I should tell you, I am glad it’s Zayn. He’s perfect for you! I can’t say the same for you Haz, best of luck with this one.”

Everybody chuckles, except Louis who just shrugs and leans into Harry a bit more, “I wish I could deny that, I _am_ high maintenance, what can I say?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Harry smirks at him, and Zayn just really needs to get out of here before they start making out.

“So I am taking Liam out then,” he says and Louis gives him a thumb up accompanied with a wink while Niall opens his mouth to say something. Which Zayn doesn’t get to hear because Liam is already pulling him away.

—-

They walk towards the coffee place, and Liam’s hand never leaves Zayn. Which is a great thing because that hand keeps Zayn warm all over. The conversation is filled with little nothings; where they’re studying, what they’re studying, what they like, what they don’t, whether Louis and Niall would end up killing each other or not, the likes.

After fifteen minutes, they’re settled in a warm booth in the café; this is exactly where Zayn comes sometimes with his homework when Niall is being extra loud in the room. They are seated side by side, their legs touching, their hands around steaming mugs of coffee.

“It’s weird how you know Niall, but we have never met,” Liam tells him.

“Yeah, I don’t really get out much,” Zayn says, “I like to stay in, in my warm bed with my books and comics.”

“Ah, you read comics huh?”

“Yeah, since like I was a kid,” he says, “Just never got out of the habit. Louis calls it ‘geeky’ but like, I really don’t care.”

“That’s nice,” Liam grins at him, “Because I might have a collection under my bed, hidden from Harry.”

“Really? You too?” Zayn asks, excitedly. Liam does _not_ look like the kind of guy who has comic books under his bed.

“Yeah,” Liam says, “When I was six, I wanted to be Superman. When I was eight, I wanted to be Spiderman. When I was eleven, I wanted to be Batman. And now, I think I want to be Iron Man.”

“I think you’d make a nice Iron Man,” Zayn says, “I’ve always wondered what colour his armor would be, I can’t wait to find out now.”

“It’s red,” Liam tells him, “I asked my sister, she’s married. So since she can see colours, I used to ask her. She said it was red.”

“What’s red?” Zayn asks.

“This is,” Liam says, reaching for the flower that was standing in a vase between their table, he points to the petals and then to the stem, “This is red, and this is green.”

“Wow, okay,” Zayn touches the petals, soft under his fingers, “Red. Nice.”

“And this is for you,” and Liam offers him the rose, which Zayn takes with his cheeks heating up for no reason.

“How did you know this is red?” Zayn asks him.

“Look at that girl,” and Liam points at a toddler a few feet away from them, sitting on another table with her parents, “The apple in her hand, same colour as this rose. And apples are red. Ruth, my sister told me. She taught me a poem actually so that I could remember when the time comes.”

“What poem? Sing it, sing it, sing it.”

“It was something like…Red is apples, bricks and roses. Just like big, round clown noses. Blue is the ocean and the sky, the inside of a blueberry pie- yeah don’t laugh, it is helpful okay?”

Zayn tries to control his giggles and says, “No, that was very intelligent of your sister actually, I am only laughing because you looked so adorable trying to concentrate.”

And Liam turns _red_ at that as he beams back at Zayn, “If I am adorable, you are on a whole other level.”

“Stop,” Zayn says, his heart melting like hot metal inside him, burning everything, as he nudges Liam’s shoulder with his, “Tell me more, what colour are my eyes?”

“Brown,” Liam says, and out of nowhere, he’s putting his arm around Zayn’s shoulder, allowing Zayn to lean into him.

“What’s brown?” Zayn asks, he should have learnt the basic colours from Doniyah too, why didn’t he, fuck.

“Like mine,” Liam says, “Your eyes are like mine, just way more beautiful.”

“I doubt that,” Zayn says, shyly.

“Your opinion is invalid since you can’t see yourself right now,” Liam sticks his tongue out at Zayn, and Zayn fists his hands in his lap before they can grab Liam’s face and he ends up kissing him.

“But you can’t see yourself either, so I could say the same thing,” Zayn comments.

“Hmm,” Liam says, “You’re an intelligent one Zayn Malik, I like it.”

“Well, you have to,” Zayn says, “You don’t have a choice, I am your _soulmate_ remember?”

Liam chuckles, his eyes disappearing into narrow lines, “Even if it wasn’t like that, I probably would have met you and ended up with you. I know.”

Zayn swears he’s going to kiss Liam if he doesn’t stop being so impossibly endearing, “And how do you know that?”

“I know because I had stopped believing in soulmates ages ago,” Liam says, “But today, when I saw colour again, I knew it was going to fade away a few minutes later but it didn’t. Then I met you, you were with Harry. And I guess, I wanted to know you there and then. It was a weird feeling, the strangest I have ever felt. But then you were gone, and I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to know you because you were my soulmate or something, nor was it because you’re possible the most beautiful person I have ever seen, it was because. Because, I have no idea. It was just there, the instinct to remove you from beside Harry and place you right next to me.”

Zayn is entranced; by Liam’s eyes, Liam’s voice, Liam’s lips, Liam’s touch. He can’t think of anything, he is unable to. He had felt the exact same way; the strong urge to stay back, find out what was bothering Liam and fix it.

“Why did you stop believing in soulmates?” Zayn asks him, curiously.

“Because once, when I was a kid,” Liam explains, “I was in the car with my dad, and suddenly there was colour all around me. For like less than a minute, and then it faded away. So I just guessed that all the soulmate stuff was crap, and we saw colour whenever we grew up or were ready. And then, God was just giving me a trailer or something.”

“Where were you? When you saw it?” Zayn asks, and he’s already smiling because Liam’s story sounds familiar.

“Bradford,” Liam answers, “My dad had a business thing, so I travelled with him.”

“I live in Bradford,” Zayn says.

“You- you do?” Liam asks, his eyes going all round again.

“And I was in the playground that day,” Zayn says, “When your car probably passed by it, and I saw colour for the first time. It was because of you.”

“It was because of you,” Liam repeats, happy at Zayn; his eyes and face lit up, glowing under the dim lamp hanging above them.

“Yeah, I am sorry I made you stop believing in soulmates.”

“It’s fine,” Liam says, “I am glad you made me believe in soulmates again.”

And Liam leans down. And Liam kisses him.

And he is flying. Soaring.

Liam’s lips are so warm and so soft as they press over his. Liam smells of coffee and some cologne Zayn isn’t familiar with, but it might be the best he’s ever smelt. Liam’s arm is still around his shoulder, the other hand pressed to his neck as Zayn keeps his hand still on his lap. He doesn’t want to stir and ruin the moment, he wants this to last as long as possible because he has never felt so comfortable or warm ever before.

He kisses Liam back, pressing harder, his hands finding Liam’s neck, the red rose lying on his lap. His eyes are closed shut and yet he can see a chaotic flurry of colour behind his eyelids. A myriad of colours that Liam will teach him the names of later. There are numerous sensations running through his mind, but none that he can pinpoint or label. Everything feels so new and enthralling so he decides to get lost instead.

Lost in Liam’s mouth, in Liam’s touch and in Liam’s scent. Lost in the guy who he’ll be taking home one day. Lost in the way Liam makes him feel; so safe and invincible and _warm_ just like the colour red.

 _They_ are the colour red, he thinks. They are the colour red because red looks fiery and passionate and powerful and soothing and affectionate. And he thinks (knows) that these are the adjectives that he and Liam are going to be, just before he loses himself completely in Liam and in the light tune that plays in the background, ringing soothingly in his ears; _your kiss it could put creases in the rain, you're rarer than a can of dandelion and burdock, and those other guys are just postmix lemonade._

**Author's Note:**

> title from taylor swift's out of the woods. ending song: suck it and see - arctic monkeys.
> 
> tumblr: [ziamasf](ziamasf.tumblr.com)


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